✧ — if you ever decide to age, love, invite me. i'll retire my bones to make you tea, and read you poetry.

• i kneel into a dream where i am good & loved. i am good. i am loved. my hands have made some good mistakes. they can always make better ones.
• i loved you completely. and you loved me the same. that's all. the rest is confetti.
• i choked on such longing i couldn't spit it out. yes, desire is so different when god bore you hungry.
• i'm confounded by music, and babies, and laughter, and stories, and goodness, and infinity, and luck. i'm confused by the notion that somebody loves me.
• stay close to any sounds that make you glad you are alive. ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you. i wish i could show you when you are lonely or in the darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.
• of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish, of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than i, and who more faithless?) of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d, of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds i see around me, of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined, the question, so sad, recurring— what good amid these, o me, o life? answer: that the great play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
• i killed a plant once because i gave it too much water. lord, i worry that love is violence.
• joe: (sighs) ah my girl, i just... i love people. i love people. but... they get me down.
  • fleabag: yeah. people are... shit.
  • joe: oh no, darlin'. people are amazing, but when will people realise... that people are all we got?
• bitter are the roots of study, but how sweet their fruit.
• the struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. one must imagine sisyphus happy.
• i hope death is like being carried to your bedroom when you were a child & fell asleep on the couch during a family party. i hope you can hear the laughter from the next room
• anonymous asked: what should i do?
  • destroy everything you identify with, then identify with something that you cannot destroy. i chose the sky, not any one cloud but i am the container
• the lesson of the moth: that is what life is for, it is better to be a part of beauty for one instant, and then to cease to exist, than to exist forever and never be a part of beauty. and before i could argue him out of his philosophy, he went and immolated himself on a patent cigar lighter. i do not agree with him, but at the same time i wish there was something i wanted as badly as he wanted to fry himself.
• sorry, too, for letting you name the lamb before i slit its throat.
• so you must not be frightened if a sadness rises up before you larger than any you have ever seen; if a restiveness, like light and cloudshadows, passes over your hands and over all you do. you must think that something is happening with you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand; it will not let you fall.